


Desert heat

by MyLadyDay



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Mercenaries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-04-12 20:41:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4494018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyLadyDay/pseuds/MyLadyDay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Smoker just didn't understand why they had to travel this far south just for a job.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desert heat

**Author's Note:**

> Day 3 of Share the love month, beta'd by Aerle

Traveling far to the south, deep into the desert just for a job was too much of a pain in Smoker’s ass. At times, quite literally, considering they had to ride on horses half of the way, then switch to camels as soon as the dunes came into view. This was the first time he rode on a camel and would, hopefully, be his last. Those damn things were slow, and their stench was something awful. The only thing making this experience remotely enjoyable was the clear distaste Hina displayed for camels and sand and the heat. Their gear was all heavy leather, the metal pieces of their armor stripped miles ago under this blistering sun. They were northerners, dammit, they weren’t supposed to travel into the desert.

Well, the decision of which job they would take was not his and so he had to be on this journey, riding into the employment of a sultan or whatever the man was. Smoker didn’t really care who paid them as long as they did get paid in the end. He wasn’t even entirely sure what they’d be doing on this job, considering the desert didn’t look like a warzone, which was their usual workplace.

The journey was an awful one, and Smoker knew he wasn’t the only one to feel that way; after all, Kuzan seemed to hate the heat out of principle, Hina hated sweating, Smoker himself was not a fan of living in a saddle for days at a time while Helmeppo whined about absolutely everything. Only Drake and, surprisingly Coby, didn’t utter a word of complaint the entire time, except for when they couldn’t listen to everyone else’s whining anymore.

Their guide was pretty much the same; visibly annoyed by the collective groaning from a bunch of grown men and one tough woman, people that his own boss hired for their supposed expertise. It was clear the man was not impressed by them in the slightest. Smoker was, however, impressed by the freckled bundle of muscles and sass that led the way through the desert. In his defence, he could only stare at the sand for so long, and the heat may have induced hallucinations because the guide, clearly a soldier, was looking hotter by the day. Clearly, their journey was already lasting far too long.

Smoker could finally breathe out in relief at the first sight of the city. He was never this excited about walking; he suspected he wouldn’t be sitting down for a while, not after this hellish journey. Really, he wasn’t one to complain, but this was too much, even for him.

Freckles, their guide, or Ace, as he insisted was his name, however, was dead set on being the reason they couldn’t have nice things just yet, claiming the sultan wanted to greet them as soon as they set foot into the palace. Sure, Smoker doubted they’d actually be staying in the palace, but he wasn’t really expecting anything like it in the first place. He’d take a patch of grass in the shade right about now, instead of growing old on this camel.

As soon as they entered the city through a massive arch of smooth cream colored stone, they were bombarded by the sweet sight of civilization, even if they got looks of distrust and curiosity as they followed Ace through the streets towards the palace walls in the heart of the city. Despite himself, Smoker was curious about this sultan and why exactly he needed a bunch of mercenaries, not to mention finally finding out how exactly he’d even heard of their little group this far from the north.

He rarely felt underdressed or cared if he was out of place, but at the moment, Smoker couldn’t ignore just how much they didn’t fit into their surroundings as soon as Ace led them into the palace. Entering the throne room, or whatever you’d call it given that the sultan sat on a pile of pillows, the difference in culture and station was even more obvious. All the people surrounding the sultan were very attractive too, which Smoker couldn’t help but notice, not that anyone could blame him after so long without the sight of people, attractive or otherwise. Embarrassingly so, Hina was starting to look attractive the last few days before Ace joined them, and women in general were never on the list of people he was attracted to.

The sultan himself, a kind looking man with a weird hairdo, sat in the middle, uninterested in anything but the beautiful man who sat in his lap while everyone around them sat on pillows of their own, seemingly unaware of the couple. The man sitting comfortably in the sultan’s lap noticed their arrival, turning his head to look straight at Smoker, making him grateful he wasn’t the leader of the group and therefore wouldn’t have to speak given that he was sure he wouldn’t be able to if he tried.

“Ah, the warriors from the north!” the sultan exclaimed, looking away from the man in his lap for a moment. Smoker couldn’t blame the man for staring, really, he was doing the same thing at the moment. “Welcome!”

They all bowed slightly, albeit awkwardly, keeping quiet with the conviction that Kuzan could handle all the talking and get them somewhere to finally sleep on a bed. Or anything other than sand, he wasn’t that picky anymore.

“The journey wasn’t to taxing, I hope,” the sultan spoke again, and Smoker barely contained the eye roll; the guy probably didn’t know what it looked like to travel without all the comfort this world had to offer.

“It was interesting, your majesty,” Kuzan replied diplomatically, and Smoker could hear the snort from Hina as a result. “We were hoping to learn what our job would be before we rest. It was a long journey, after all.”

Listening to Kuzan talk like a man fit for life at court was hilarious in its own right, but Smoker couldn’t focus on that while his eyes held the gaze of the man still seated in the sultan’s lap. He knew nothing of the customs here or how fucked he would be if he dared to touch someone the sultan was clearly very possessive of, but Smoker really couldn’t look away. The only comfort here was that he wasn’t the only one that couldn’t stop staring, seeing as the man’s dark eyes kept looking at him without fail since they’d walked into the room.

This was really great, barely through the door and already looking to seduce the sultan’s spouse, lover, concubine, he didn’t even know what the guy was to the sultan yet. Awful ideas were going through his head, absolutely shameless things he really should not be thinking of and missing whatever the sultan was talking about. It was only when Hina elbowed him in the ribs that he noticed their little group was once again bowing to the sultan before Ace appeared possibly out of thin air to lead them out of the room and into the soldier’s quarters.

“Let me guess,” Hina whispered at his side, making him look down towards her in curiosity, “you were busy eye fucking that pretty boy in the sultan’s lap and didn’t hear a thing that was said?”

When she put it like that, it didn’t really sound very good, but she didn’t let him get a word in as she continued speaking.

“And you have no idea that you’re not going with us and instead have babysitting duty of that pretty boy right here in the palace?”

Well, clearly he had been too busy and didn’t hear a thing because this was pretty important information. For a moment, Smoker was sure she was messing with him, but as soon as Ace showed them their rooms, he was already walking away, motioning for Smoker to follow back into the palace. All he got were quick goodbyes and barely contained laughter from his brothers in arms. At the moment, they were traitors, the lot of them, leaving him to babysit some boy toy while they did whatever it was the sultan wanted from them. He probably should have paid more attention.

Ace led him back into the palace and, for a moment, Smoker wondered why the hell he had to go outside to the soldier’s living quarters in the first place, but stopped himself from asking because sassing someone who knew the place far better than he did would most likely end badly for him. At this point, he just wanted to lie down and getting lost in this massive palace did not sound not appealing.

The room he got, however, was more comfortable by far than what the others got. It was on one of the upper floors of the east wing of the palace with a view of part of the city and the desert beyond the city walls.

“When do I start?” Smoker asked before Ace could disappear, immediately hating the smug self-satisfied smirk he got in reply. Clearly, Hina wasn’t the only one who noticed he hadn’t been paying attention.

“The sultan leaves tomorrow morning for the western border, and you have to guard Izo while he’s gone. His room is just through that door, and you are to keep anyone from touching Izo.” The last part was delivered with a very specific narrowing of Ace’s eyes, and Smoker got the message loud and clear. He didn’t really like it, but it didn’t sound like he had much choice. For a moment, he wondered if he could get executed as a traitor if he wasn’t a citizen in the first place.

Ace glaring at him, as if he could hear Smoker’s thoughts, snapped him out of it for as long as it took Ace to leave the room. Still, he was too tired for indecent thoughts and could barely do more than strip before dropping onto the really soft bed and falling asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

That first day of following Izo around was more boring than Smoker could ever imagine, although it took him an embarrassingly long three days to realize Izo was just leading him around randomly to piss him off. Or bore him to death, he still wasn’t sure. Smoker was also growing more frustrated by each passing day, mostly due to Izo still being absolutely beautiful and being surrounded by what turned out to be a harem of alarmingly attractive people.

It also took him embarrassingly long to realize he was living in the harem wing, but he was sure he couldn’t be blamed for not noticing considering that the sultan apparently favored Izo to the point of ignoring everyone else and leaving them to their own devices.

Getting friendly with some of the people he met was, at least, serving as a distraction from Izo-induced frustration; in this case, with the help of copious amounts of alcohol. He had to admit, this place had really good and surprisingly strong booze. Strong enough to convince him that trying to seduce Izo was a good idea. Who’d know, right? Drunk logic was the best logic the moment Smoker made his way to their connected rooms, already berating himself for not making use of that door that led into Izo’s room from Smoker’s own.

Finding his way to Izo’s door was easy enough and, considering he was already in the hall, he decided to use that instead of going into his own room first. The fumbling was undignified for a man of his talents, and he found himself questioning his decision to pick the lock instead of knocking for a moment, but the lock gave way, and he let it go, focusing on what to do next. Opening the door seemed like a good course of action, after a moment’s thought, and soon enough, Smoker was stepping into the dark room.

It was another moment before Smoker found himself shoved into a wall with a knee pressed into the small of his back, a hand in his hair pulling his head back and leaving his throat exposed to the long knife pressed to it. Not the reaction he was hoping for.

“What are you doing here?” a voice asked into his ear, one he recognized as Izo’s without a doubt, and Smoker found himself equal parts aroused and confused. Izo was a lot stronger than expected and clearly knew how to handle a blade. A blade Smoker could, even in his intoxication, recognize as a tool mostly used by mercenary guilds from the east by warriors that could fight on the battlefield and infiltrate enemy ranks as agents with equal finesse.

Fuuuuuuck. Izo was a mercenary. Nothing more sobering than being moments away from having your throat slit by an assassin that was scary and hot at the same time.

“What are you doing here?” Smoker parried, half hoping that seducing Izo was still an option.

“This is my room.” The reply sounded extremely incredulous.

“You’re not as harmless as I was led to believe,” Smoker added, though it was hardly necessary. He was still slightly intoxicated, though, so he was excused. “You’re here to kill the sultan, aren’t you?” he asked as the idea dawned on him. What else could it possibly be?

“Uh…” Izo’s reply was not really a reply.

“But you haven’t done it yet. Couldn’t do it, huh?” At this point, Smoker might have been antagonizing the man holding a knife to his throat, and it probably wasn’t his brightest idea ever. “Or did you fail?”

He could feel the knife cutting his skin as Izo clearly had no patience left for him.

“Things, uh,” Izo started, and Smoker could have sworn he sounded embarrassed, “things didn’t go as planned.”

At that, Smoker remembered the first time he had seen Izo with the sultan, and adding that to the fact he lived in the harem, the only conclusion Smoker could come to was that Izo accidentally became the sultan’s courtesan. He knew this was a bad idea, but all Smoker could do was laugh at that, endlessly amused and without a care about what Izo would do to him. At least for the moment.  

 

 


End file.
